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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515518">Pull Me from Myself Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvels/pseuds/Marvels'>Marvels</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dreams, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post 125, post-episode, spec fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:15:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvels/pseuds/Marvels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beau awakens from another dream, and finds some small comfort in her friends, despite realizing what she might be losing.</p><p> </p><p>Post episode 125.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beauregard Lionett &amp; Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>122</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pull Me from Myself Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Beau shot awake, panting, trying not to scream. The voices had been so close, and so many. She’d thought they’d been safe after their night in the mountains. She’d allowed herself to believe it. Therein had been her downfall. No one in her dorm room was keeping watch, with Yasha, Jester and herself all deciding that this might be one of the last good nights of sleep they’d have for a long time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beau had stayed up a little while once they returned to their room separate from the rest of the party, if only to ensure that Jester and Yasha were serious about forgoing watch. With the day they’d had, she wouldn’t put it past the two of them to split the watch alone between them in some misguided attempt of letting Beau rest. She never had liked being treated with kid gloves. Besides, it had given her some time to work through her written list of tower modifications for Caleb. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’d fallen asleep that way, watching Yasha twist and turn before settling into a peaceful sleep, thinking about what it might feel like to kiss her, wondering if spider bolognese was overkill, trying to figure out how she should wear her hair. Comfortable in those simple, exciting thoughts, she’d allowed herself to fall asleep shortly before midnight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no peace to be found in her dreams. In the astral sea, two red glowing eyes above her. She tried to scream out for Caleb, for he was certainly there too, but no sound came beyond the hushed and excited words of some invisible mouths, welcoming her. So many eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she sat up, breathing heavily in the bunk that had been afforded to her, Beau let herself feel a moment of relief that she hadn’t woken up Jester or Yasha. She knew though, that they would wake when she left the room, more likely than not to run face-first into Caleb. Gritting her teeth, she picked up her notebook and pen and made a quick exit. The only sound that managed to escape her bunkmates was a tired moan and yawn, still confused and sleep-drunk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caleb was not out in the hall. She cursed her shit fucking luck before entering the other room, where Veth, Fjord, and Caduceus were bunked up with Caleb. Predictably, Caleb was sitting up, Veth making small panicked noises at his side while Fjord and Caduceus were only beginning to ask the questions that were surely on everyone’s mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all whipped around to face Beau as she entered, panting, coated in a layer of cold sweat. Upon feeling their attention come to rest on her, Beau began to instantly regret following her instincts here. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d been trying to avoid in her own bunk?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring the shudder of cold and fear that came over her, she approached Caleb, and relaxed a little as his hands, rough and calloused and familiar spun her around carefully, checking her shoulders and neck before freezing as his fingers skirted over the tattoo on the back of her neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here,” he said quietly, tapping the spot against her spine, right under the collar of her shirt. “You have another too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The dream?” She asked, subconsciously covering the spot on the back of her neck with a palm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ja</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Caleb said absently, his hands still brushing over her skin as he continued to look, peered down the back of her sleep shirt for the telltale crimson glow of the eyes, before patting her gently on the small of the back. Beau thought distantly, trying to remember when this man became more of a brother than a stranger. She couldn’t recall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have another too?” She asked numbly. Caleb nodded, holding out his left hand, palm up. The tattoo was there, an exact match to the one on the back of her own left hand. Beau met his eyes and they shared a look of grim resignation. It was a bell that couldn’t be unrung, an arrow released that couldn’t be called back to the quiver. They had looked once. Once had been enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a faint knocking on the door before Jester and Yasha pushed their way into the cramped dorm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is Beau in here?” Jester asked in a stage whisper. “Oh, Beau!” Fjord seemed to shush her, to run interference on the conversation that Beau didn’t really want to have. For what it was worth, she would have to thank him later. Even half-awake, he was more attuned to her state than she would have expected. He was a good friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It happened again. The eyes.” Caduceus spoke for them, but Beau scowled and turned to face him when she heard a tremor in his voice. He hadn’t been scared before. Perturbed, perhaps, but not afraid. And he looked afraid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not why you’re upset,” Beau heard herself say. It came out a little harsher than she intended, and she winced a little internally before coughing and clarifying, “are you alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caduceus’s ears and shoulders drooped in a gesture that made Beau’s heart sink for him. He never looked defeated, not for her sake or anyone else’s. For whatever reason, he had always been unshakeable. He looked shaken. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jester seemed to pick up on the same thing, and she made a small cooing noise, crawling up onto his lower bunk with him, snuggling up to his shoulder, taking one of his hands in both of hers, slowly rubbing her thumbs against the back of his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened, Caduceus?” Jester asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beau was listening, she swore she was. She dimly heard him describe a forest, </span>
  <em>
    <span>his forest</span>
  </em>
  <span>, full of stone trees, a city street made of teeth devouring the Blooming Grove, a forest of flesh consuming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she couldn’t lift her hand from the spot of the back of her neck. The skin, the tattoo, all of it was spoiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caleb stayed at her side, though for whose sake, Beau couldn’t tell. Veth began to coax Caleb to sit on the ground, and Yasha, suddenly at Beau’s other side, was doing the same with sounds that weren’t quite words, just hushing and soothing and nice. Beau felt herself sinking down to the ground, never leaving contact with Caleb, Yasha’s hands so warm and reassuring at her elbow, on her knee as she sat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nice. Safe.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She let her gaze drop to the journal she’d tucked into her belt. She’d wanted to write, but she knew nothing would come out, nothing legible or coherent. Grabbing it had been an instinct, one that she resented now, thinking about the way that the scribbles from two nights ago rested only a couple of pages apart from the list of modifications she wanted to make to the tower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wasn’t that just the way? A two-page spread with cursed symbols that had poured from her unwilling. The next page with court dates for Zeenoth’s hearing, for her opportunity to testify against him, followed by an inventory of the items they’d procured from their allies. Then a heavily edited list of requests for the date she was planning. She scoffed a little, unable to contain the dry humor she felt realizing that she was being a romantic, trying to woo the woman she loved before they both possibly died on an alien plane, fighting an ancient city.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Yasha asked quietly. Beau realized, with a leaping heart, that she was practically in Yasha’s lap, the other woman holding her tightly against her body, as if she could ward off the dreams and the eyes with vigilance and a magical sword. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had planned our date for tomorrow night before we went back to Eiselcross,” Beau said quietly, feeling herself burn with a deep blush. She heard Caleb release a huff of what might have been laughter at her other side, and she bumped his knee good-naturedly with hers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She asked me for the whole tower,” Caleb said conspiratorially, smiling stiffly up at Yasha over Beau’s head. “Her initial plans were… unorthodox.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey man, no spoilers,” Beau said weakly, releasing her right hand from the back of her neck to give him a slight shove. He surprised her by catching her hand and giving it a squeeze. Paired with the look he was giving her, it looked like an apology, and Beau’s heart sank further.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I... Beau, that is… amazing,” Yasha said from Beau’s left side. Beau could have sworn she was squeezing her tighter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t even hear my ideas yet, it could be totally shit,” Beau said lightly, instinctively. Yasha huffed a quiet laugh, and Beau saw her far hand reach down to rest lightly on the pommel of her new sword. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your ideas are never shit, Beau,” Yasha said. “I just… wish I could see this one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you still will,” Beau said firmly, not willing to voice the possibility that Caleb and now Yasha were suggesting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure I will,” Yasha replied, her hand drifting down to Beau’s thigh, just above the knee, her thumb rubbing a slow back and forth. When Beau looked up at her though, Yasha’s gaze was faraway, distant. She seemed distracted, on the defensive, but not quite as vigilant as Beau had come to expect.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about?” Beau asked quietly, not looking at Yasha, but instead watching as the rest of the Nein seemed to slowly be returning to positions of rest, but this time all in the same room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had a dream too,” Yasha admitted, matching Beau’s whisper. “About this sword. And about my god. I am… still trying to understand it.” Beau nodded, using the motion to lean more fully into Yasha’s chest, her chest pounding as Yasha tucked her arm more fully around Beau in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was it a good dream? Or a bad dream?” Beau asked, eyes settling on Caduceus, who had laid back down on his too-small, human-sized bunk, his eyes clearly still open in the dim light of the dorm. He was staring up at the bunk above him blankly. Beau hoped he would get enough sleep that night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t bad. Definitely not bad. But it wasn’t good. It came from my god, from Kord. I just need to think about it more to understand what he means. What he wants from me,” Yasha said, her breath steady as she thought aloud, head leaning down to rest on top of Beau’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here to listen, if you need me to,” Beau offered, giving Yasha’s forearm a squeeze. Yasha answered with a squeeze back to Beau’s knee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you are. I… I really appreciate that, Beau.” She hesitated then. “And if you, you know, need to talk about anything, the dreams or… or about the Cobalt Soul thing, you know you can talk to me too?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beau swallowed heavily, almost audibly as a knot constricted in her throat, thinking about Yudala’s profuse apologies, their assertion that this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not the way that we work</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She tried not to think back to the night anymore, the strike from her father, the way she’d been bodily dragged away, thrown into a cart and transported to the Cobalt Soul in chains, but the memories came up unbidden. It was a marked improvement, Beau noted, that she didn’t want to throw up, or touch the phantom pain of her burning jaw. She found the fabric of Yasha’s cloak and her tangled mane of hair and her floral smell grounding. Yasha’s whole being was grounding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Beau said. “I guess… I guess I never told you that whole story. About my induction and everything.” Her voice was shaking a little, and Yasha hushed her, the feel of her breath on the crown of Beau’s head was a balm in itself, and Beau took a deep, resetting breath instinctively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When you’re ready, though,” Yasha said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Beau said, the small rush of adrenaline she’d felt from the eyes, from the mention of the Soul, melting into the tiredness and realization that it was still deep in the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yasha maneuvered them both down onto the floor, where Beau’s head could rest on the bulge of Yasha’s shoulder and the softness of her breast, with Yasha’s arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders and back as she laid on her side. Beau felt a little kick on the back of her calf, and instinctively stretched out a leg to twine her foot around Caleb’s ankle, their lower backs brushing against each other, a comforting closeness with her brother. She knew it for the reassurance it was, that he was there too. He’d heard. He knew. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When I’m ready,” Beau echoed, stretching one arm across Yasha’s waist, holding her tight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were no more dreams that night. At least, none that mattered.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p><p>Beauyasha is rotting my brain, I can legitimately think of nothing else. Do I hope that they get to go on their fucking date? Yes. Am I ready to put my clown makeup back on tomorrow night when they bypass it altogether? Also yes. </p><p>Title taken from Seawolf's Dear Fellow Traveller. Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed, and feel free to leave me prompts for future fics either in the comments or over at my tumblr @caitrun.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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